


Little Details

by casstayinmyass



Category: Batman (Burton), Batman (Movies 1989-1997)
Genre: Bruce Feels, F/M, Flirting, Love Triangles, Romance, Sugar Daddy Jack, anti-hero reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 16:31:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21164693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: Jack is your boyfriend, and you're comfortable with that. What's not to love about the protection you get from being the Clown Prince of Gotham's girl? But when you're not around Jack, a certain billionaire seems to think it's his turn... and he doesn't know just who he's up against.





	1. Chapter 1

“This is a nice surprise,” you smirk, smoothing out the tablecloth. You’re at a favourite restaurant of the two of yours– a high class establishment where only Gotham’s elite dines. Jack has the owners and wait staff all sufficiently paid off, so no one comments on his lips or who he bares resemblance to. It’s a place for the two of you to enjoy time together, out of the shadows.

Jack’s eyes run down your form-fitting dress, and then back up to you, a wide smile spreading.

“Well. You did cover fabulously for us last night when you were taken in by the commissioner. I have to reward my princess as she deserves.”

He slides you a small black box, and you open it to reveal a beautiful emerald necklace. You raise an eyebrow, and take it out.

“Jack! It matches my dress.”

“I know. I picked out your dress,” he grins, and admired how the jewels look on you. “Spectacular, princess. Just breath-taking.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

“No need for thank yous, sweetheart. Not at all. You know how daddy likes spoiling his girl.”

You blush a little, your seductress persona caving ever so slightly under Jack’s flattery. He sighs and shakes his head, in awe of you, and unfolds the menu.

“What do you say to crimini mushrooms in a white wine cream sauce, babygirl? Would ya like that?”

“Yeah,” you practically moan, biting the tip of your finger innocently and dragging your foot up his leg under the table. His grin widens, and he lets his legs fall open for you. Just as you’re feeling him up, the waiter comes.

“Evening. What can I get for the two lovers?”

Jack smiles. “I’ll have the mushrooms in the cream sauce. She’ll have the same.”

“Very well. Fine on the wine?”

“Well, why don’t we live dangerously? Go ahead and pour us another one.”

The waiter does so, then leaves to fill the order. Jack is just about to take your hand across the table, when one of his henchmen comes over.

“Boss. There’s a situation.”

Jack visibly tenses. “What did I tell you about disturbing me while I’m with (y/n)?”

“Real sorry, boss. Real sorry. But it’s a real situation.”

“I’ll give you a fucking situation.”

“An emergency, boss. It’s about the makeup commercial.”

Jack sighs, and holds up a finger. “Will you excuse me a moment, my dear? I’ve gotta go make sure these idiots have their heads screwed on right.”

“Course, Jack,” you lean back, letting your thin strap fall down your shoulder. He groans a little as he gets up, reluctant to leave you. You wave a little as he gets pulled just outside, and you bite your lip, watching after him for a few minutes while you wait.

“Don’t look now, but your strap fell down.”

Your gaze snaps back in surprise, and you notice someone has sat down across from you. It’s a man with black curls and a perfectly tailored suit… debonair, handsome good looks.

“Bruce Wayne,” you guess slowly. Your heart beats faster, thinking he’s here because he noticed Jack. But he shows no sign that he knows.

“Yeah. Sorry about noticing the strap thing, I… really shouldn’t have been looking. I’m a details man, I notice things.”

You blush a little, pulling the damn strap back up your shoulder.

“That’s fine. I was just–”

“Sitting here all alone, girl like you?” He’s either so slow on the uptake that he doesn’t notice the place set for two, or he’s ignoring that fact. The longer he sits, the more you agree with the latter.

“Actually I’m–”

“What are you drinking? Waiter?” Bruce calls him over. “Could you grab us a bottle of Cristal and two glasses?”

You gasp inwardly. Must be nice to be a billionaire. Bruce notices your reaction, and hesitates, looking adorably worried. “Ah, maybe not! Maybe not, too cheap? What about–”

“No,” you cough, “Cristal’s fine.” He nods, and then nods to the waiter, who hurries off. Bruce looks at you.

“I’m sorry, I keep interrupting you. You were saying you were actually…”

“Actually,” you glance out the door, and find that Jack’s still gone. “Well…”

“Hey, I don’t mean to intrude,” Bruce assures, squinting over the table at you in a way that makes you cross your legs. “Just tell me to get lost any time, you won’t hurt my feelings. Won’t be the first time tonight.” He smiles, and thanks the waiter as the drinks are brought out. You find yourself smiling a little too at the guy’s charming humour. “So,” he says, “A toast to two lonely people, being not so lonely together.” You raise yours, and the two of you take a sip. You’re more reluctant now to tell him that you aren’t, in fact, as lonely as he seems to think you are.

“Can I tell you something?” he leans forward. You do as well.

“Okay.”

“I think you look beautiful.” He takes another sip of the expensive champagne. “That’s why I came over. Do you come here often? Because I swear you look familiar.”

“Oh… been here once or twice,” you lie. Bruce nods.

“Huh. What’s your name?”

Just as you’re about to tell him, you’re both surprised when a hand lands on Bruce’s shoulder. You look over to see Jack, and Bruce also meets his eye.

Something indecipherable flashes in Bruce’s eyes– like a strange mix of shock and contempt.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne,” Jack says, voice patronizing, “But you happen to be in my seat.”

Bruce picks up his jaw, managing to get up.

“Sure. Sorry– I didn’t know. Hey, g'night… you two.”

“The bottle–” you call after him.

“Keep it. Enjoy it.”

As Bruce heads off, head down and hands stuffed in his pockets, Jack checks the label on the bottle.

“Well. Don’t mind if we do.”

Bruce looks back at you, gaze intense as the man himself, and you fan yourself a little.

“Enjoyed your time with Mr. Wayne while I was gone, did you honey?” your lover asks through gritted teeth.

“Jealous?” you tease, willing your voice not to waver. Jack just smiles.

“What have I got to be jealous about? I’ve got a pretty little thing for my arm, who loves me and is loyal to me. Tell me– is that any reason to be jealous?”

“No.”

You chance a look up, and see Bruce watching you from the bar. No matter how you’re rationalizing it, telling yourself you want to stay with one, the fact is always the same: there’s more than enough of you to go around.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gives you a to-do list. Bruce Wayne is not on that list, but that could change in a heartbeat.

Jack had called it a “little mission.” All you had to do was scope the place out, tell them if it posed any threat to their plan.

The museum was to be robbed that night. Jack had laid out all the plans with his henchmen. You had been present of course, as you were a pawn too in his game, if not a little more. The plan was for you to scope out the florist’s shop, which was directly beside the museum. Jack had sent some guys to drill some kind of hole in the basement when the owner was distracted a few days earlier, and since that had been successful, it was your turn to hold up your end.

“Now all you have to do sweetheart, is go in, be your charming self, and make a little small talk, alright?” Jack smiles at you, stroking your chin, “That sound do-able to you?”

“Of course,” you say, packing your bag with a small lady gun that Jack always sent you with– just in case. “You know I’ve got a very talented mouth on me, Jack.”

“Oh yes, I… know better than any man,” Jack gives you that salacious grin again that makes you weak.

You smirk, flattening out your skirt.

“I’ll be ready tonight on site,” you say, “Don’t wait up for me, boys.”

“Ah,” Jack holds up a finger, raising an eyebrow. You turn, and saunter back over. He taps his cheek for a quick kiss, but instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. All of the henchmen look away, not wanting to be caught staring by the boss, and Jack loses himself in your kiss for the moment it lasts. After pulling away, you wave and head out, as Jack shakes his head. Makeup smeared, he takes out a handkerchief. One nameless henchman dares to speak.

“Boss, uh… are you sure she’ll be able to get the job done?” Everyone turns to stare at the man who said it. Jack smiles sweetly, dabbing at his lips. The man looks around at everyone’s scrutiny, swallowing.

“What I meant was… will she be able to go through with it? She… she just seems kinda…”

He blinks in fear.

“By all means, finish your sentence,” Jack smiles. The man continues to gulp.

“…Kinda soft! Is all.”

Jack extends a hand, and he doesn’t have to say the words _‘Bob? Gun,’ _for it to be offered to him. The guy trembles in fear as Jack holds it up, and pulls the trigger… revealing a long stick and a *bang* flag. The guy lets out a massive sigh of relief.

“Gentlemen. Allow me to make one thing very clear. I have more faith in my woman than I do in any of you.” He gives Bob back the toy gun, takes out his own, and shoots the guy in the heart.

—

You approach the florist, and take your sunglasses off, tucking them in your pocket. You’re not quite sure what Jack and his goons would do to the place after they were finished with it– that wasn’t a discussion they included you in– but it didn’t really matter to you. All that mattered was getting a good look at the place, and a feel for their alarm system.

The bell rings as you enter, and a sweet looking old woman comes to the desk. Keeping yourself personally detached but professionally engaged, you smile warmly her way, tucking your hair behind your ear. You know exactly what to do to play up your femininity, and appear innocent.

“Hello,” the old woman says, “What can I do for you, young lady?”

“I was looking for some flowers suitable for an anniversary,” you say, “My brother’s one year is coming up.”

You’re lying through your teeth like a professional, but it’s not an entire fabrication. You do have a brother, though it would be a miracle if he ever gave up his psychiatric work for marriage.

“Oh, how exciting,” the lady smiles, “I’ve got just the thing.” She beckons you back, and shows you a section of beautifully coloured flowers that would certainly be perfect for celebration.

“It must be difficult,” you say, looking around. One security camera, but it’s cracked in the lens.

“Hm?”

“Keeping business afloat in this part of town?” You keep searching. “There must be lots of robberies. I hope you’ve got a security system in place… you all alone here, running the place and all.”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry,” she smiles, “My daughter comes in to work weekends. She’s not around today, since she’s working late, but I’ve got her to help with everything usually. She’ll be helping me fix the alarm tomorrow… pesky thing just won’t make any noise!” Bingo. That’s what you needed to hear. Jack will be happy. Happier than normal, at least.

“So. Will there be a party?” the lady asks you, touching your wrist.

“Pardon?”

“A party? For your brother and his wife?”

You try not to feel bad for what you’re doing. She seems like an honest person.

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you’ll look lovely in any dress you have picked out,” the lady chuckles. You laugh a little, earnestly.

“I’m not sure what I’ll wear. My partner always picks my dresses to match his evening wear. It’s always a… surprise, with him.”

“Well. You’re young. You can wear anything and look beautiful,” she pats your arm.

“There’s beauty in age,” you find yourself smiling, “You’ve had the extra years to perfect your signature look.” She gives a bashful little wave, and hurries off.

“I like that, dear. I’m going to remember that!”

You let your smile fall as she disappears, and chastise yourself for falling too into character. At least you don’t seem suspicious at all.

“Hey. I thought I recognized a voice, and I came over here, and… it’s you!”

You turn, startled, and see none other than–

“Bruce Wayne,” you say, trying to keep the name sounding formal. You just end up sounding surprised.

“What gave me away?” he gives a lopsided grin, and you look down pointedly at the wad of cash in his hand. He stutters awkwardly, and stuffs that away.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me to just come up and scare the pants off you like that– if you were… wearing pants, uh…” He gestures to your skirt, then grimaces. “Sorry. Again. I guess I’m a little better at conversation when I’m in a suit.”

You smirk, and notice the flowers in his hand he had probably just paid for.

“For your girlfriend?”

He keeps smiling at you in a daze, until he snaps out of it, looking down.

“Girlf.. oh, uh. No! No, these are…” He looks at the red roses in his gloved hand. “Parents. They’re for my parents.”

“Oh,” you nod, “That’s nice. Nice to know some men still care enough to visit their parents.”

He nods distantly. “Yeah.” You cock your head, curious. There’s something in his eyes today that seems sadder than the playful glint they had the last time you two had met.

“Your brother’s anniversary, huh?” he changes the subject, pointing at the mums you have in your hand.

“Yes,” you nod, “Big thing for him, lasting this long with a girl.”

“How long does a man usually last? Four or five minutes?” Bruce attempts to joke, then cringes again. Alfred was 90% of his impulse control.

“I don’t know why, Mr. Wayne, but I have the nagging feeling you can last longer when you’re with the right woman,” you say, walking up to tug on the lapels of his trenchcoat. His tongue darts out over his bottom lip, a tick you had noticed a couple of times.

“I have a nagging feeling you’re right.”

You let him go, and gather a bouquet to bring home for Jack to most likely take some scissors to. You feel Bruce’s hand on your shoulder.

“You never told me your name.”

You sigh. You really shouldn’t tell him your name.

“(y/n) Crane.”

Bruce takes his hand off your shoulder. “Come with me to visit my parents.”

“I–”

“It’ll only take five minutes, I promise. I just… don’t really want to be alone.”

You don’t know what it is, but you’re compelled to say yes. You nod, and go to pay.

“Now Mr. Wayne,” the nice old lady says sternly as she rings up your flowers, “It would do you well to remember that this lovely lady here has a boyfriend!”

You giggle softly, and Bruce ducks his head in embarrassment.

—

“So, your boyfriend… was Jack Napier?”

Bruce hurries to catch up to you as you walk out of the florist. You turn to him sharply.

“Yes. How–?”

“I know his face. Uh. Seen him on TV a couple times,” Bruce says slowly. “Isn’t he… you know…”

“A felon?” You smile. “Well, I hope I’m confiding in the right person here, Mr. Wayne, but Jack’s criminal history is largely irrelevant in our relationship. It’s exciting to be the girl of the Clown Prince of Gotham.”

“Call me Bruce… and sure, you can trust me. We all have our secrets.”

He walks ahead of you, taking your arm, and you stare at him curiously as he leads you to a seedier part of town that reminds you an awful lot of where Jack had his accident. You look around, stepping over torn up newspapers plastered to the cobble by sewer water.

“Do you mean to tell me, a rich man like yourself can’t afford to move his parents out of a dingy area like this and into your mansion?” you demand. “I think that’s very–”

You stop as you see Bruce bend down, and touch a part of the ground. He places the roses there, and takes a deep breath.

“This is the place they were shot.”

You stare at the spot. “By who?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce admits, “I was just a kid. I’m surprised you didn’t know I was an orphan… the media beats that into the ground like a dead horse. If I had a dime for every time I’ve been called a brooding orphan billionaire, I’d be a trillionaire.”

“I don’t put much stock into the media,” you say, approaching him, “I find that they never describe people quite right. Not everything is black and white. There’s always gray… and people don’t understand that.”

“Gray always tips one way or the other,” Bruce says softly, “Justice is as black and white as society gets.”

“But who decides who gets to dole that out?” you ask. “The police? They’re just as corrupt as the mob bosses who run Gotham. It’s all a bunch of spin. Nothing but spin. One day, the wheel will stop spinning Mr. Wayne, and the people who’ve lived underneath will come out on top.”

By now, you’re inches away from him. You hadn’t even noticed, but he’s clutching your wrist by his neck.

“Why are you with Jack Napier?” Bruce hisses. You don’t have time to list all the reasons why. He’s a wonderful lover. He protects you. He’s devoted to you, and you to him. He…

Time. You glance at Bruce’s watch, and back away.

“I have somewhere to be.” Bruce doesn’t protest as you walk briskly away from him, but you pause before leaving. With eyes downcast, you drop the flowers you bought over his the crime scene that created Bruce Wayne.

You run out of the alleyway, and see a white limo pull up.

“Impeccable timing, princess,” Jack says to you, putting a hand on your thigh.

“I missed you, daddy.” You cuddle into him as the car keeps moving, toward the museum. Curiously, Jack notices Bruce out the window, and narrows his eyes at him, waving with a white gloved hand.

“What brought the two of you together on this fine day?” Jack asks. You can hear the edge in his voice, but you know he trusts you.

“Every pawn in the game is a valuable one,” you answer, slinging your leg up over Jacks knee. He pats your leg in approval, giving you a kiss, as you look out the window at the buildings of Gotham and second guess that very statement.


End file.
